Grandfather Thunder
He is a wiry, imposing man who looks to be in his late 60s. He has long since shed his image as a rough-around-the-edges dockyard worker, trading in oilskins and steel-toed boots for tailored suits and Italian leather shoes. He tends to dress in dark colors with a single, striking accent — a charcoal suit with a sky-blue tie, for example. In his mortal mien, he has a thin fringe of gray hair and a deeply lined face with dark brown eyes.

His fae guise is similar, but his hair deepens to the bruised black of a thundercloud, and lightning flashes in the deeps of his eyes. A phantom smell of ozone surrounds him, and the fiery crown of Summer hovers over his head. Whenever Grandfather Thunder enters a room, the temperature seems to rise by several degrees — perceptible even to ordinary mortals, as his powerful Wyrd cannot be entirely contained by the Mask. When he grows angry or is in the presence of sufficient wrath, a faint halo of St. Elmo’s Fire flickers around him, leaking through the Mask as well.